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Leeman shot the animal a wary look and capped the water bottle. “Is your dog friendly?”
“Most of the time, but he’s a real good judge of character.”
Ace kept intense eyes trained on Leeman.
He shrugged. “Now really, Scott. You are paranoid. Why would I want that useless piece of land? There’s no easy water access. Can’t even mine on it, anyway.”
Booker clenched his fists to keep from punching Leeman in the gut. “You made sure of that, didn’t you?”
He shrugged. “Environmental protection isn’t my main concern. That was your girlfriend’s bailiwick.”
“Not my girlfriend and again, not your business.” He’d thought she was his girlfriend, but he’d been wrong, so wrong.
“How are those bats, anyway? Keeping a good watch over your opal mine?”
Booker straightened his baseball cap, buying a moment to steady himself. “You work hard to be that obnoxious or does it come natural?”
Leeman laughed. “Miss Teel’s article about your bats was well-received. I believe her research team was given a handsome grant.” He looked casually away for a moment. “She’s coming to town, you know.”
He struggled to take it in. Anita was coming back? The anger and bitter disappointment flared as intensely as it had four months earlier, when he discovered who she really was. He kept his face controlled in spite of the feelings that coursed through him like a swiftly moving stream. With every ounce of remaining control, Booker turned away from Leeman.
“Stay, Ace,” he told the dog, and pushed through the bank doors.
Leeman was goading him. Anita had no reason to come back to Rockridge. She’d done her work, saved the world and left his heart in the dirt.
He shot a look back at Leeman, who still had the remnants of a smile on his face as he backed away from the dog. Anita wouldn’t come back. His heart seemed to have developed an unsteady rhythm.
Would she?
The oppressive desert heat pressed down on Anita as she neared Rockridge in the battle-scarred Dodge she’d rented. It seemed hostile already, this place that hid her brother somewhere, in some sizzling corner. From the airport, she’d placed one frantic phone call to Wild World Magazine. The secretary confirmed Drew hadn’t been heard from in several days. The second phone call went to the police. Their professional coolness infuriated her as it had when she’d called the first time from the Seychelles. This was her brother they referred to with such detachment. She made arrangements to meet with them as soon as she arrived.
The road reflected the summer heat back at her in angry waves. The Dodge seemed to feel it too: the engine rattled and coughed, causing her to slow to a crawl several times.
Her stomach finally convinced her to pull into a dust-covered diner. She ordered a sandwich to go and waited while they prepared it. As she collected the bag and paid, she noticed a truck pull up by the side of her rental. The driver, whose face was concealed by sunglasses and a baseball cap, peered in the side window.
Anita held her breath and watched him from the restaurant. Why was he so interested in a dented old Dodge? She stood frozen with indecision. Should she go ask the stranger what he was after? Drew’s terrified words came back to her. Her brother was involved in something bad, and for some reason he hadn’t shared any info with the police. Was this nosy stranger linked to his disappearance? Or was she sinking into paranoia? There was only one way to find out. Anita took a deep breath and pushed through the door.
The person in the truck turned a quick look in her direction and immediately drove off.
She tried to shake off the fear. You’re a stranger in a small town, Anita, she told herself. You’re a curiosity, like a new animal at the zoo.
But not a complete stranger, she reminded herself. There were at least a handful of people who remembered her last visit, and it was possible that some of them would just as soon not see her roll into their town again. Especially a certain rugged rancher.
She checked the rearview mirror as she pulled out onto the highway.
The intense sunlight made the passing landscape luminous, sprinkled only sparsely with vegetation. It brought her back to the spring study she’d done here, tracking the lesser long-nosed bats on their travels through the nectar corridor, the thousand-mile path of cactus and agave plants that stretched from Mexico to Arizona.
It never ceased to amaze her how God caused the plants to bloom in sequence from south to north, providing an enticing path for the bats and a winged platoon of pollinators. Back then the desert had seemed like some sort of Elysian field, made even sweeter because of her own attraction to Booker. Now, with her brother lost in the wide panorama and Booker out of her life for good, the air vibrated with a vague sense of threat. She’d tried calling Drew’s apartment several more times with no result.
By the time she made it to the Rockridge Police Department it was late afternoon and her clothes were wrinkled and sweaty. Stealing a look in the cracked rearview mirror, she decided she looked more like a high school kid than a confident adult. She pulled her uncooperative kinks into a knot at the back of her head and applied some lipstick. There was nothing she could do about the smudge of fatigue under her brown eyes.
Her efforts yielded a slight improvement. She was a world-class researcher, a woman of science, and the police would take her seriously if it killed her.
I’ll make them.
Sergeant Williams sat in a chair and dutifully typed out Anita’s comments. The miniscule squad room was dank, the air conditioner unable to keep up with the relentless heat from the bank of windows that looked out on a series of warehouses. “What did he say when he called?”
“Like I told you on the phone, he said something about trouble and murder. The magazine he works for told me he hasn’t been there in four days. There’s no answer at his apartment, and the super says he hasn’t been there, either.”
Williams lifted a heavy eyebrow. She rubbed a finger along her chin, glossy and black as the cold mug of coffee that sat at her elbow. “I called her, too. She says his rent is due. Not the first time he’s been late paying it.”
Anita stiffened. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Just an observation. Perhaps the situation isn’t as dire as it appears. He’s disappeared before, around the time the rent was due. I spoke to the magazine, as well, to…” She consulted a notepad. “To the owner, a guy named Cyrus Leeman. He says your brother is a bit on the unreliable side. This is not the first time he’s been a no-show at work.”
This surprised her. Leeman didn’t say a word against Drew the last time they’d met. Anita felt a fire building in her chest. “My brother is in trouble, Sergeant. He was terrified when he called me. I don’t care what his past history is.”
“We’ve got to take past history into account when a missing persons report is filed, Ms. Teel. It doesn’t mean we won’t look for your brother.”
She slammed her purse on the desk. “Listen, I flew here straight from the Seychelles Islands.”
The officer folded her arms. “Long trip.”
“Yes.” Her tone was icy. “I interrupted critical research to come and find my brother. Do you think I would have done that if I didn’t fear for his life? My work is very important.” As soon as she said it, the arrogant tone of her own words struck her, but she was too caught up in the anger to give it much heed.
Williams leaned forward, her tone level, eyes burning. “Thank you for filling me in on your status. You see this folder here?” She stabbed a thick finger at the bulging manila sleeve. “This here folder is filled with important people just like you, who need this tiny police department to help them. Your request will be added to theirs. You will be given the same attention and services that they will receive. We do our absolute best for anyone, no matter how important they are, or aren’t.”
Anita clamped her mouth together, trying to figure out how to undo the damage.
Williams handed her a card. “I will continue to check into it. Here is my card and the number for the Department of Homeland Security. They manage the Border Patrol office in Westview, that’s the next town over.”
“Border Patrol? I thought this would be a police matter. Missing persons.”
“Leeman says your brother was photographing some rock formations south of here. Rockridge is twenty miles from the Mexican border, Ms. Teel. I don’t need to tell you what kind of trouble that causes. This is a dangerous town.” She patted her hands on the folder. “Very dangerous.”
Anita blinked as she left the relative cool of the police station and headed back to the car. Her thoughts spun in dizzying circles. Drew was missing, and the police weren’t convinced it was foul play. She had to admit with his erratic behavior at work and skipped rent payments, his character wasn’t exactly unimpeachable. He’d managed to keep her away from his apartment and his office during her last visit.
And I didn’t do much to further his cause. She mentally kicked herself for her attitude.
Figuring the best course of action was to talk to Leeman and then head to Drew’s apartment, she wrenched open the car door, ducking away from the blast of heat. As she bent to slide behind the wheel, her gaze fastened on the deflated tire. Then on the other. She ran around and checked the other side. Four tires, completely flattened, the jagged holes showing where they’d been punctured.
She got out and slammed the car door so hard the windows rattled. Who would vandalize her car right in front of the police station? Her mind flew to the stranger in the truck. But that was ridiculous. She’d only just rolled into town. Was it an enemy she’d made on her last visit to Rockridge?
What was she going to do now? She thought about going back in to report it to the police, but she didn’t want to have another encounter with Sergeant Williams. She fished around in her purse for the number of the rental car company and dialed.
We are unavailable at this time. Please leave a message and we will get back to you as soon as possible.
She clicked the phone shut. Drew was out there, possibly dying, and she needed a car. Her breath grew short and a panic started to twist through her stomach. Drew. She had to find him before it was too late.
He was all she had left.
A movement on the sidewalk startled her. She looked up.
The detail that caught her attention first was his eyes, those piercing blue eyes that had lingered in her mind since she’d fled this rugged state. They were the same eyes she remembered, vivid, determined. Angry.
His chin was stubbled, his thatch of short, dark hair tousled. The casual demeanor did not jibe with the expression on his face. His lips were closed in a tight line as he tapped his baseball cap against his muscular thigh.
Her mouth went dry. “Booker.”
TWO
Booker shoved his hands into his pockets and forced his voice into as pleasant a tone as he could manage. “Hello, Anita. Did they find Drew?”
She gaped at him. “How did you…?” Her attention was diverted by the big dog that trotted over and inclined his head for a scratch.
“Heard it from a bank teller. Pays to know where the action is in this part of the world.” He saw the fatigue and worry on her face vanish behind a mask of self-control. Ace basked in her gentle touch. Clearly the dog didn’t have as good a sense of character as he’d thought.
Anita bent down to scratch Ace behind the ears. “Hi, boy. I’m glad to see you. Looks like you’re getting around pretty good.”
Booker shoved his hands in his pockets as the dog stared at her with devotion in his eyes.
The tenderness in Anita’s voice disappeared as she straightened. “They haven’t found Drew. I’m not sure they’re devoting enough manpower to his case.”
“I’m sure you told them so.” He didn’t bother to hide the sarcasm.
She opened her mouth to answer and stopped, as if she couldn’t find any words that would work.
She was never short on words, he thought, and the look of uncertainty on her face nagged at him. He let the silence linger for a while. “I hope they find him. He’s a good guy.”
“I didn’t know you two were friends.”
He allowed himself a slight smile. “He took some pictures in my mine tunnels at your request, remember? I showed him around some spots on my neighbor’s ranch, too. We talked for a bit while he was doing the shoot.” She remembered all too well; he saw it by the tightening of her mouth, the self-righteous set to her chin. She’d used the pictures as part of her bid to persuade the town council to deny him the right to work the mine on his property. What had Leeman given her in exchange? A feature in his magazine? A nice donation toward her research? It still stung, but what hurt more was the way she’d trampled his heart in the process, as if he had meant no more to her than a stranger. Had he actually told her he loved her? It seemed unreal now. And had she stood there dumbstruck and then turned away without a word? He’d convinced himself they could have something special, but he’d learned the hard way it had all been gut-wrenchingly one-sided. Dumb cowboy, dumb mistake.
Anita cleared her throat. “Well, anyway, I’m going to search until I find him, police or no police. I was headed over to the magazine, but I hit a snag.” She gestured to the car. “Someone flattened my tires.”
He wondered how she’d managed to make an enemy already. Whoever it was had left him to wrestle with an uncomfortable decision. Should he walk away, let her beg a ride from someone else, abandon her like she’d done to him? Something about the lift of her chin and the tiny tremble in her full lips tugged at his heart. There was a carefully controlled desperation in her that called to something deep inside him.
Deal with it, Booker. You don’t have a choice and you know it. He couldn’t leave a lady stranded, even if it was the last lady he’d ever want to see again. “I can give you a lift over there, if you want.”
Her face pinked, eyes flicking up and down the dusty street as she considered. “Um, well, thank you. It’s awfully nice of you to do that for me.”
He pulled his keys from the pocket of his faded jeans. “It’s not for you. It’s for your brother.”
She grabbed her purse and followed him to a battered Ford pickup. Ace followed right behind, tail wagging.
Booker stepped ahead of her to wrench open the passenger’s door and felt a flush infuse his face as his shoulder brushed hers. “Got hit. Door sticks.”
She climbed up onto the cracked leather seat while he fired up the engine. He could smell her enticing fragrance, a faint whiff of vanilla that made his head swim. How did she manage to smell so nice in the desert heat? He concentrated on cranking up the air conditioner. Drive, Booker. Get the job done and get this lady out of your life.
As they pulled onto the road, she examined the neat, hay-scented interior and the plastic bin on the floor filled with maps. “Are you planning a trip?”
He didn’t divert his gaze from the front window. “Something like that.”
They drove the five miles in silence toward the last place on earth Booker wanted to be.
The buildings along the main street were old, wood-sided structures. The tallest was the post office, covered in a cracking layer of off-white paint. A small church advertised a summer camp, and a few children splashed in a wading pool under the shade of a gangly mesquite tree. Booker waved at a man unloading sacks of grain at Pete’s Feed and Supply.
The magazine headquarters was one of the more modern buildings in the town, with a neatly kept cluster of yucca shrubs in the front. Booker turned off the engine and shot Anita a look. He’d given her a ride. That was enough for one day, wasn’t it? “I’ll wait here.”
She hesitated. “Oh, would you come in with me? Just for a minute? I figure the more people who look concerned about my brother’s disappearance the better.”
With a sigh, he acquiesced. Ace hunkered down in the shade of a scrubby bush to wait for their return.
A blast of cool air greeted them as they checked in with a harried secretary who ushered them into an office that smelled of stale coffee and cigarettes. Booker squirmed in the chair, trying to figure a way out. A tall, lanky man with glasses and a head of curly brown hair came in. He was followed by Leeman, dressed in pleated trousers.
The curly-haired man smiled and shook their hands. “Hello. I’m Paul Gershwin, Drew’s editor. I don’t think we met last time you were here. I was on assignment in Europe. You know Cyrus Leeman, I understand.”
Leeman nodded at them, smiled at Anita and grasped her hand as he slid into a chair. “Lovely to see you again.”
Gershwin extended a hand to Booker. “I didn’t catch your name.”
Anita spoke up. “This is Booker Scott, he’s a…friend. Of Drew’s. We’re both concerned about my brother.”
He nodded. “Me, too. Drew’s kind of eccentric. It’s not unusual for him to take off for a few days, but I’m worried about that phone call you described to me.”
Anita leaned forward. “What was he working on?”
Gershwin opened his mouth to answer when Leeman cut him off. “Who knows? Your brother had a tendency to go off on tangents, if you’ll excuse me for saying so. He was likely to stumble on topics that interested him more than what we were paying him handsomely to shoot.”
She frowned, surprised at the angry tone from a man who she knew to be completely charming and self-possessed. “What are you getting at, Mr. Leeman?”
“I’m just telling you your brother is not good at following rules. He has been problematic since he came here six months ago.”
Anita stared at the editor. “Is that what you think, too, Mr. Gershwin?”
Gershwin took off his glasses and polished them on his wrinkled shirt. “He came through when it counted. Never missed a deadline. That’s all that matters to an editor.”
“Have you heard from him at all?”
Gershwin shook his head. “No. I was hoping you would say you’d talked to him again.”
“Only that one quick call, but it was a bad connection so I couldn’t understand what he was getting at. Please tell me where you think he was shooting. At least that’s a place to start.”
The editor handed her a photocopied map and pointed. “Somewhere around here. He was supposed to get us some shots about wind erosion. He said something about photographing a place southwest of here called the Painted Cliffs.”
Booker glanced at the map with a frown. “That’s no-man’s-land. Did he go alone?”
Leeman cleared his throat. “We have no idea. He never bothered to keep us apprised of his actions. We’ll certainly let you know if we hear from him. Now if you’ll excuse us, we have some layouts to look at.”
